two ghosts (standing in the place of you and me)
by lges
Summary: she wanted to go somewhere. somewhere where dreams never died, somewhere where she could burn down the whole world and build it again. / drabble collection
1. Chapter 1

_Written for fan-freak 121's Minor/Rare Pairing Challenge with MarleneLilyJames. Hope you will like it and that it stills comprehensible since english is not my native language._

 _WC: 534 words_

* * *

Lily and James, it was a _forever and always_ since he was eleven. It was an all-year romance, filled with laughs and warm embraces. She was not so sure about it at the beginning. He was arrogant, messy, he was all light and pranks with his friends. It was not her kind of stuff, because at the very beginning she was best friend with Severus Snape, a poor boy full of shadows and sharp edges.

Then, there was Marlene. With Marlene, love tasted more like a summer adventure. It was ephemeral and she could allow herself to a little bit of frivolity. It was bright and colorful, secrets shared below the tents of their jointed sheets. Growing-up, she was more confident and beautiful than Lily never had dreamt to become one day. She was the queen of the innocence.

Growing-up with them by her side, it was a choice. In the heat of the night, sometimes, she was scared that it was a wrong choice, a naive one that this decision to keep all the love existing in her heart, alive until the end.

Because they were alive for a while, their transcendental feelings and their mortal bodies, for twenty-one years exactly. They were until they were not anymore.

Summer let its place to winter. It was dark and dangerous, scary and quiet.

The day Marlene died, it was quiet. It was quiet like if they were living in a bubble, it was quiet like closing your eyes at night to confront yourself to your own darkness. It was forgetting and remembering at the same time.

But it was mostly harsh in the aftermath. James took Lily in his arms, who was shivering and crying without making any noises. The sun had disappeared and they were at the center of the universe, suddenly self-conscious of how much cold it was outside.

 **x**

Lily and James, it was an evidence. So were Lily and Marlene, and everyone know how this kind of story ends. Lily and James, it was the fear after the aftermath. They had already lost so much, they looked at each other because they knew that this war took pleasure to make them suffer.

They were dependent of each other, of their heat, of their internal sunshine. They knew that if one disappeared, the other would vanish, falling into ruins and ashes, and bones.

Lily loved Marlene (Soulmates. They were soulmates. Two little girls gazing longingly into each other's eyes while above her, it was an enchanted ceiling that was supposed to be the center of the attention. It was not.) James deeply loved everything that Lily seen in Marlene. Her humanity, her solar behavior, her braveness.

 **X**

Lily and James, it was an ending that marked a lot of young warriors and lovers. It became a myth, a whisper, a lullaby.

They were not notorious for their beginning. Nobody remembered their first look at each other, the first shaking kiss that they shared. They were not famous for their love, that was fairly soft.

They became a legend for having lost after a first loss, again and again and again.

Their love was soft and tender. Dying made it stronger, crueler.


	2. Chapter 2

_pairing: draco/pansy, hint of pansy/harry  
setting: peter pan!au (surrealism?)  
wc:1004 words  
written for the 100 Pairing Challenge. Hope you'll like it._

* * *

She wanted to take over the world, some nights in her child bed, but other nights, she just wanted it to burn.

The world and the people living in it did not deserve compassion or support. Not when she was alone, in a children bedroom with stars glued to the cellar but that she was too old to be able to dream and to believe in fairytale.

She did not sleep well. Not before, not when she was a little girl, proper dress, cute ribbons, dolls. Not now.

She dreamt about shadows. They took her but she never made it to the end. She never knew if it was a salvation, to be abducted by the dark, or if it was just death.

No one had answers about Pansy's dreams. Not until she saw one on the baby pink wall. Big, monstrous, alive and so more terrifying that in her nightmares and so more real, she was on her own, in nightgown and she was unable to defend herself because she was just a girl and she could not pinch herself awake and –

She froze when she saw him and a smirk drawn upon her lips because all this time she had been wrong (oh, so wrong.)

The shadow was not the worse. But the puppet master was.

He was handsome like the crueler child was: in an innocent way but with a dangerous silkiness in the voice.

"Planned to going somewhere, darling?"

She blinked and she blinked and she blinked but she was not here and he was not talking and she did not understand what he was saying because nothing indicated that she wanted to run away.

Actually, she did not want to run away, until he come in, flying through her window like he was some sort of messed up fairy. But he was comfortable, he was a safe net. She wanted to go somewhere.

Somewhere where dreams never died, somewhere where she could burn down the whole world and build it again.

Modeling it with her hands, her sweat.

"To the end of the world."

He tilted his head on the side, his hair falling on his marble-like face, and stretched out his arm like if he was noticing time on an invisible watch.

"Time to go or else, we'll be late."

He stopped on the edge of her window.

"Do you know how to fly?"

She said yes, by principle, because it was what nice girl do. He wore green, green hat, green trousers.

A green soul.

She flew away. She did not notice.

Green was the color of envy.

She flew away, avoiding towers, Big Ben, clouds, bridges. (Avoiding to look at him looking at her.)

There was so many lights on the ground, it was like fairy dust split on the top of the buildings.

She licked her lips (it was like sugar on a cake.)

She flew away. She did not notice.

The shadow was still in her room, extending, and growing.

And Draco was smiling. Oh, it was envy for sure. Her normal life was his envy. It was a thing taken away from him, a long time ago when he was a boy, when he was growing up with a mom named after a flower and a dad, wrapped in disgust and ice.

He was crushing it.

x.

Times passed and she did not remember her own name or even why she was here. With him.

She was – they had destroyed the world together, called the shadows to take over the world, to reign on Neverland like king and queen.

She was – she was good here, leading the Lost Boys, tricking the fairies and the sirens and the pirates and Him.

She was – there was only one time she failed. Blaise found her crying her soul out. He was not there but he had ears and eyes everywhere on this island.

"Why do you cry, Pansy? Are you hurt?"

He knew everything about scratch, and wound, and injury. (everything but trauma. The Lost Boys, they played, they fought with wooden swords.)

"No."

His skin was dark but the mud smudges on his cheeks made it darker. He had big eyes opened on the world but saw only a microscopic part of it.

She was – she was Pansy Parkinson.

x.

You don't leave Neverland. Not without him knowing.

And, he finishes every time in front of you, a glare like death, long eyelashes and a sculpted face. She doesn't know who has snitched on her, Blaise, Theo, Vincent or Gregory.

When Pansy Parkinson leaves Neverland for good (he has warned her: "if you leave, you won't ever come back. You won't ever see me.") she thinks about how good he must have been. Before.

Once she's back, she cleans her room (the shadow has left its fingertips but she rubs her eyes and everything is tidy like usual, why would it be otherwise?), she puts to the trash her dolls and her green ribbons and she goes to archives, to the public library, she ends up on the street, on the way home under the snow.

There are snowflakes on the tip of her nose. It's like an Eskimo kiss.

She shivers.

Pansy Parkinson will look for a young boy missing named Draco Malfoy in every record, books, newspapers and documents she will ever find, in vain.

On the porch, she wonders if he has told her his last name or if she has made it up, and right before she closes her eyes, sleeping, she does not remember the sound of her voice.

One day, she meets a nice tall boy, named Harry Potter. Big hands, dark hair, green eyes. His hair is so messy that he looks just like a pirate with his grin. A nerd pirate (because of the glasses.) but still a pirate. She marries him.

They got a baby. Green eyes, wide smile and adventurous fists that grabs everything near.

She called him Blaise and it sounds like old lands.


End file.
